


in all forms fairest

by starlightwalking



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon Compliant, Diverse Tolkien Week, F/M, Some Headcanons Incorporated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 05:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Elwë first beholds her in the form of a bird, but each time he sees her she changes again and again, but he loves her all the same.





	in all forms fairest

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not actually sure where I first heard this headcanon, but I really love the idea that the reason Melian can have children and the none of the rest of the Ainur can is because she chose to confine herself to a single mortal body while she was married to Thingol. I wanted to explore that, and Diverse Tolkien Week gave me the opportunity to do that and discuss the race relations of Middle-earth at the same time!  
> I'm kind of fast and loose with race headcanons for Middle-earth elves; generally I do interpret "Light/High elves" as white-ish and lording over the "lower" elves as a form of racism but depending on the story I'll change it up. Not that I really write that much about that sort of thing - which is something I hope I can keep doing in the future, because there's a lot of stuff to be discussed. Especially in my usual stomping grounds in the Hobbit fandom - I have some specific headcanons about Fili and Kili, and Legolas too.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Elwë first beheld her in the form of a bird. She was a nightingale, full of song and starlight, and his whole world stood still as he watched her flit across the sky in the holy land of Aman.

He did not recognize her for who she was then, seeing only the beauty of her feathers and her flight. Her song stunned him, and he stood in awe, staring up into the blue-black sky as she soared overhead.

He never expected to see the bird again.

* * *

He heard the song of nightingales in the wood, and their music carried his heart away. He recognized their song, and the clearest, highest voice above them; he could not place the memory, but he wandered off his path to hear them.

He took only a few steps before the music swelled up in his soul and he was struck to silence. For the highest voice grew clearer and clearer, until it was not the call of a bird but the song of Ilúvatar's children.

Elwë then saw the birds and followed them deeper into the wood, his mind utterly devoid of anything other than the enchanting song. The words were spoken in a tongue he had not heard of in many a year, not since he journeyed to Valinor, and he picked out their wondrous words of the wind and sky and the sweet flowers of Vána.

He did not know when the forest opened into a glade of stars, but he suddenly beheld the fairest creature in all the world standing and singing before him. He knew her then as a Maia, for the Light of the Trees shone in her starry eyes and cascaded off her raven-dark hair. Her form was tall and beautiful, her skin as blue as a bottomless pool.

Elwë did not yet know her name, but he loved in her in that moment: a creature of ice and fire, the air and earth, his heart and soul.

She turned, and seeing him, stopped her song. His heart cried out in anguish and desire, and he approached her with wonder and reached for her hand.

She took it, and changed in that moment. Her form shifted; she shrank to equal his height, her eyes glinted white, her skin turned gold as a flickering ember.

Elwë stood transfixed, beholding her altering glory. He did not speak, only gazing into her eyes. She shifted again and again in that time, and each time he felt his own form growing wiser and older.

The world changed around them. Endless years passed, and the trees grew tall and closed out the starlight. It was not until the last light of the sky vanished and the only light in the wood shone from their glowing bodies that the spell was broken and Elwë fell into her arms.

She changed again, holding him with a strength unknown and a warmth on her burning red skin that nourished his heart. He kissed her chest, her neck, her lips—then drew back to gaze upon her.

She was a being of fierce fire, red and orange and yellow. The warmth that nurtured him blazed ever hotter, until he could scarcely stand to touch her, and he fell back, trembling in wondrous terror.

She saw his hesitation and changed again: now she was thin and fearful, her skin a bleached gray and her hair vanished.

"Lady, nay," he rasped in a voice unused for years—ages—but what was time anyway? "I—" He cleared his throat, cursing the imperfect body. For all his endless years, he could not change as she.

She reached forward and stroked his neck. Her caress quieted all his apprehension, and he watched in rapture as she changed again. Now she was dark, black as the sky, eyes silver as the snow.

His voice returned, smoother than before. Her touch healed his every wound, dissolved every fear, strengthened him beyond reckoning.

"I have loved thee since I first beheld thee," he murmured. He shivered as she set a gentle hand against his cheek, melting into her embrace.

She changed again, until she fit against him perfectly. He was whole in a way he never had known possible.

"I memorized thine every detail as I stood before thee," he whispered. "You show me wonders of change I have seen only in Aman, and I drink them in!"

"I am a daughter of Aman," she said, in a voice so melodious Elwë wept. He kissed her then, unable to help himself, and though his eyes were closed, he could feel her change a thousand times in his grasp.

"I am Elwë," he murmured, "forever thine, even should I never return to my people."

"I am Melian," she replied, "and I will forsake all the majesty of the Ainur to be thine."

In these words she did change again. She beheld his form: fair, pale, hair and body white and pure. When she settled, she echoed him, but the echo was more beautiful than the ghost of an elf he was.

Elwë had never seen anything lovelier.

* * *

They laid together that night, binding to each other in marriage, as no other Elda and Ainu before or since. It was in that form, the lovely white Maia, that she did take him as her husband and unite her body with his, and it was in that form that Elwë found joy which he had never known.

They spent countless years together in that forest, Elwë scarcely thinking of his people. At last, his mind turned to them and their trial of waiting. Though he regretted nothing of his love, he was filled with an earnest desire to return and be a king again.

In the interim, Melian changed—again and again and again, but each time less dramatically, each time with longer in between. She settled into a form of supreme beauty, but of extreme difference to his own: dark as night and brown as a mighty tree.

"I have pledged myself to thee, dear Elwë," she said, lingering at the edge of the wood. "And in doing so, I have sacrificed much of my power. Hast thou noticed the weakening of my spirit, the way my physical form becomes confined to this body?"

Elwë nodded. "Aye, my love. I have long wondered why it is so."

"In leaving this forest I submit myself to never change my form until the awful day upon which we are separated," Melian explained. "Wilt thou take me, even so?"

"I will always take thee," he professed, drawing her close. "Should the night turn to fire and the stars crash into the Sea, I will have thee forever."

"Then I do choose this form to be mine and thine!" she cried, and stepped into the open air.

* * *

Elwë and Melian emerged from Nan Elmoth to find a people much changed. Those who had remained in Beleriand hailed their king as Elu Thingol, Greymantle, for the mighty change that Melian's Light had wrought upon him. They loved their king and adored their queen, and set up a realm of light and music.

Melian was worshipped near unto a Vala. She was the opposite of the white and silver Sindar people. Her skin was dark and her eyes black as the endless night; her hair was a shadowy cloud crowning her head in glory, but she was in all ways unlike the people she ruled.

Though the people revered her, they feared her in equal measure. She held herself as queen above all queens, more wise and powerful than any of their kind.

Thingol often marveled on this, and offered the question to his wife and queen: "Thou couldst have chosen any form under Elbereth's sky, dear Melian. Why didst thou not select a body more like unto me, pale and fair?"

Melian gave him a look of patience, a humbling reproach of his lowly status. "I wished it. I cherish this figure and its many blessings, and it gives me joy. It reminds me of my form as a nightingale, for in this form I can sing. And, fairest Elwë..." (for that was the name she ever called him by, even now) "...in this form, I compliment thee as the night does the stars."

Her words gave Thingol much to muse upon, and he began to understand. "I only wanted thee to be alike unto me, Melian, as thou wert upon our marriage night. And our people..."

"They love me," she said, tilting her head. "I have walked among them more than thee, O Mighty King! I know their hearts. And I know thine."

"Aye, my queen," he agreed, and pulled her close. She kissed him softly, and though she did not change in his arms, her spirit twined with his.

"I am not the only one who has changed," she murmured. "Thou art altered, Elu Thingol, in both name and body. Thou art taller, brighter, full of holy light."

"Full of  _thy_  light," he said huskily, sneaking a hand up her back.

"Am I not fair to thee even in this form, love?" She grabbed his hand with a grip as strong as iron, and leaned forward to bite his lip.

Thingol sighed and twisted his fingers between hers, stroking her wonderfully dark skin. "In all forms thou art the fairest, Melian," he proclaimed, and melted into her.


End file.
